


willing to wait for it

by anonymousdaredevils



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Caring Dom Matt, Come Eating, Face-Fucking, Kneeling, M/M, Masturbation, Mouthy Sub Foggy, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:39:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousdaredevils/pseuds/anonymousdaredevils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Take your clothes off and get your laptop out,” Matt says, as soon as he lets Foggy into his apartment. He’s got that voice going that makes Foggy blush—a little Daredevil, a little <i>objection, your honor</i>, but Matt all around the edges.</p><p>(Matt makes Foggy describe his favorite porn video to him while keeping him from touching himself. That's it, it's trash.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	willing to wait for it

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "At some point, Matt puts Foggy into a...compromising position (naked and maybe being fingered or teased?) and has him bring up his favorite porn images and GIFs, and describe them to Matt, getting more and more self-humiliating as he goes."
> 
> It doesn't fit perfectly with the prompt but possibly embodies its spirit??? It's porn about porn, that's for sure. And, yeah, that's a fucking Hamilton reference.

“Take your clothes off and get your laptop out,” Matt says, as soon as he lets Foggy into his apartment. He’s got that voice going that makes Foggy blush—a little Daredevil, a little _objection, your honor,_ but Matt all around the edges.

“Yes, sir,” Foggy says, dryly even though he kind of means it. He hustles over to drop his bag on the couch and shrug out of his jacket. He watches Matt move around the room as he steps out of his shoes, unbuttons his shirt. Matt’s still fully dressed, which makes Foggy narrow his eyes. A fully dressed Matt probably means Foggy’s going to be begging to get fucked, which he likes well enough, but not as much as he likes _getting fucked._

“Are we making a sex tape?” Foggy asks, “because I’m cool with it, but I think blind lawyer vigilante porn is too fringe to get a lot of traction online.”

“Do you want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?” Matt asks, sounding amused.

“Surprise,” Foggy says. “Just a yes or no on the sex tape, okay, so I know whether I should do my hair and makeup.”

Matt steps forward to grab Foggy’s jaw, jerking his head to the side, and Foggy can’t bite back his gasp when Matt scrapes his teeth over Foggy’s neck before he bites down—once, just a nip.

“No sex tape,” he says, darkly, close to Foggy’s ear. “Do as you’re told.”

“You gonna hit my hand with a ruler if I don’t?” Foggy asks, stepping forward so their chests are pressed together. He leans in to kiss Matt, but Matt twists his fingers in Foggy’s hair to pull his head back.

“No, you’d enjoy it too much,” Matt says, smirking at him, digging his free hand into Foggy’s hip. He keeps his hold on Foggy’s hair while he presses a soft, chaste, completely _infuriating_ kiss to Foggy’s mouth.

“Yeah, probably,” Foggy says.

“Clothes off,” Matt says. “Open your laptop and sit it on the coffee table.”

He lets go of Foggy and shoves him forward so Foggy stumbles, catches himself on the arm of the couch and immediately resumes getting undressed. He knows well enough that Matt likes it when he talks back, but he also knows that Matt will keep playing until he’s satisfied, leave Foggy tied up and untouched all night if he feels like it.

Matt’s kind of a dick.

Foggy’s completely in love with him.

He’s completely naked and sitting on Matt’s couch to set his laptop up when Matt walks over to rest his hand on the top of Foggy’s head, fingernails scratching at his scalp. Foggy leans into it instinctively, then goes still and swallows hard when Matt asks, “Do you think that’s where you should be sitting?”

Foggy lets out a soft breath and gazes up at him.

“I’m guessing no,” he says.

“Where do you think you should be?” Matt asks, evenly, and oh— _oh_ , they practiced this last weekend. Foggy never got off the floor on Saturday, crawled and knelt and curled up at Matt’s feet while he sat and listened to a book. He was hard the _whole day_.

“On my knees,” he says. He wonders if Matt knows that he’s blushing.

“Why?” Matt asks, smiling indulgently, carding his fingers through Foggy’s hair.

Foggy watches Matt’s smile shift, get a little darker. Sometimes, he wonders what that smile would look like while Matt’s wearing the mask.

“Matt,” he whispers.

“Why should you be on your knees, Foggy?” Matt asks.

Foggy pushes up into Matt’s touch, butts his head against his head, before he says, quietly, “Because I’m a slut.”

Matt beams at him and bends down to press a kiss to his forehead, and it makes Foggy’s heart race even more. He slips to kneel in front of the coffee table, breath catching in his throat when Matt moves to sit behind him, thighs bracketing Foggy’s shoulders.

“Open your porn folder,” Matt says.

“Porn folder?” Foggy says. “I don’t—uh, I don’t have a _porn_  folder.”

“ _Foggy_ ,” Matt says, laughing, his voice going all sweet and Matt for a second. “I—I made you _beg for my come_ last week, and you won’t admit that you have a porn folder?”

“Fair point,” Foggy says, faintly.

He opens his porn folder.

“Play your favorite one,” Matt says.

“They’re all special in their own way,” Foggy murmurs, but he clicks through to his go-to anyway, dick stirring instinctively at the sounds that start up.

“Tell me what’s happening,” Matt says, leaning down to rest his chin against the top of Foggy’s head, fingers tripping over his cheek.

“There’s a woman—she’s naked and tied to a bedpost,” Foggy says, glancing up at Matt to see him listening intently. “She’s smiling—and really pretty, curvy, I think you’d like her. She has a nice voice, a little deep.”

“She does,” Matt agrees. “Why is she tied to the bedpost?”

“Why d’you think?” Foggy says, then winces and huffs out a laugh when Matt digs his fingernails into his neck. “Sorry, can’t turn it off. She’s—she’s gonna get fucked. Spoiler alert. The camera’s following her, and she’s spreading her legs so wide.”

“Someone’s telling her to,” Matt says, stroking his fingers over Foggy’s neck instead, lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, the guy stepped into the frame,” Foggy says. “You’d like him, too, he’s got a nice dick. Not as nice as yours, of course, but not bad. He’s—he’s running a hand over her thigh and telling her to—”

Foggy drops a hand down to grab his dick only to have Matt slap it away. He grabs Foggy’s arms and pulls them behind his back, roughly, holding them with one hand wrapped around his wrists.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Matt asks.

“No,” Foggy says. “Sorry—I’m sorry.”

“What is he telling her to do?”

“ _Beg_ ,” Foggy says, sitting up higher on his knees until the pull of his shoulders is more comfortable. “Matt, he’s telling her to beg and he’s kneeling over her with his—with his dick in his hand, close to her mouth. Fuck, Matt.”

Matt’s silent for a moment, listening to her beg to get fucked.

“You beg prettier than she does,” he says. Foggy relaxes back against him, just a little.

“Well, thanks,” he says, a little breathlessly.

“Keep talking,” Matt says, rubbing fingers against Foggy’s jawline, “and maybe I’ll let you beg for me later.”

Foggy wants that, so he does what he’s told. He stutters and moans around descriptions of the woman getting face-fucked with the man’s fingers pulling on her hair, of her legs slung over the man’s shoulders as he fucks her until she’s screaming and coming on his dick. He talks and he talks and Matt just asks calm questions, strokes his hair, grazes fingertips over his lips and his nipples.

“Matt, please, _please_ ,” he whines, squirming against Matt’s hold on his arm, while the man onscreen is groaning and coming inside of her. It’s a stiff competition—fuck, he’ll use that one later—but Foggy’s pretty sure he’s never been more hard.

“I want to hear you beg a little sweeter, Fog,” Matt says.

“I’m trying to—” Foggy starts, pitching forward a little until Matt obligingly lets him go so he can turn around to kneel facing him. He smiles up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Matt replies, stroking his cheek. “What do you need?”

“ _You_ ,” Foggy replies, earnest and  _honest_ , ducking his head to press his forehead against Matt’s knees, “Matt, I need you, please, I need your—I need your dick inside me, however you want me. _Matt,_ please _, please_  don’t make me wait anymore.”

“Good,” Matt says, softly, pleased. “Good boy.”

Foggy tips his head up imploringly, and Matt leans down to kiss him before he’s unzipping his own pants and pulling out his erection.

“Please,” Foggy murmurs, and Matt nods, threads fingers in Foggy’s hair to guide him down. He fucks Foggy’s face gently, never pushing far enough to make him choke, whispering sweet things as he thrusts into his mouth again and again until he’s pulling off and tugging Foggy’s head back so he can come across his lips with a low moan.

Matt carefully wipes his fingers across Foggy’s face and feeds him his come until Foggy’s face is mostly clean, a little damp with spit.

“Touch yourself,” Matt says, when he’s done. “Jerk yourself off for me, I want to hear you.”

Foggy sobs when he finally gets his hand on his dick, pushing his face into Matt’s hand when he cups his cheek. It only takes a couple of minutes before he’s coming on Matt’s floor with a truly embarrassingly desperate noise.

“Fuck, Foggy,” Matt says. “Clean—clean it up.”

Foggy licks at his hand, makes it loud and obscene, sucking his fingers into his mouth.

“The floor,” Matt adds, hoarsely, and Foggy gapes at him before he obeys, moving to his hands and knees to lick his come off the floor. It tastes clean, a little like vinegar or whatever Matt cleans with, and Foggy feels his dick twitch improbably when Matt starts to run his fingers up and down his spine.

When Foggy sits up, he says, immediately, “I’m not brushing my teeth before I kiss you. You’re kissing me, floor mouth and all.”

“Worth it,” Matt says, pulling at his arm until Foggy crawls into his lap to kiss him. Matt eventually pulls away to press soft kisses to Foggy’s face before he asks, “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, Matt,” he says, with a yawn, shifting until he can press his face into Matt’s chest and Matt winds his arms around him. “Way better than a sex tape.”


End file.
